


Mr Page

by HanaAarow



Category: Led Zeppelin
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, M/M, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:34:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27408895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HanaAarow/pseuds/HanaAarow
Summary: Ok so I was kinda worried about posting this one /_\, first off: trigger warning for child grooming and statutory, so if that’s a trigger for you, please don’t read! I don’t want anyone to get too upset or uncomfortable : (.This story is set in the early seventies but Robert is a lot younger than he actually was at the time (13-14) and he gets guitar lessons from Jimmy, except Jimmy’s not as nice as he seems.
Relationships: Jimmy Page/Robert Plant
Comments: 12
Kudos: 18





	Mr Page

**Author's Note:**

> It’s me again !   
> Honestly I’m not expecting too many people to read this one, but I’m still proud of it and wanted to post. I understand if people are a bit weirded out by this 😅

Mr Page was the first guitar teacher that Robert ever had, and the only one. Everyone knew that the best guitarists taught themselves, so Robert stuck to the one and just went it alone when his parents didn’t let him see Mr Page anymore. The guitarist lived in a large and spectacular London home that Robert got to visit weekly by train for lessons; they’d found each other via a strange recommendation by a boy Robert was sorta friendly with, but the description sounded promising and Robert was tempted by the prospect of being able to travel out of Birmingham every week to visit an exotic gentleman who was probably ten times better at guitar than any of the budding rockstars in his school year. At first his parents scoffed at the proximity of this mysterious teacher, but Robert knew that this guy was the real deal, and he could probably help him become a real rock star, I mean this guy had been in proper rock bands and everything. It was only a matter of time before his parents relented, Robert was never going to back down when he was this passionate about something, and he wanted to play guitar. Plus, maybe he could get more of a feel for the London scenery for when he was gonna be rehearsing and performing there.   
As Robert soon found out, Mr Page was very handsome and very good at playing guitar. He was really amazing. As far as Robert could tell, the teacher lived alone; which seemed a bit odd to him because he couldn’t imagine why a guy like that wouldn’t have girls falling all over him. Maybe he was just a loner, maybe he was married to the music and could never really let a girl in. Cool. Mr Page taught Robert all sorts of riffs and melodies that he’d never even heard before, presumably they were songs from when he was kid. Robert knew plenty of music from the fifties, but his teacher seemed to have an encyclopaedic knowledge, he knew so much music and he had records stacked up in bookshelves lining the walls. It would’ve taken Robert hours to count them all.   
Mr Page soon started feeling like a friend to Robert, or something like that. He wasn’t really too sure what he felt like Mr Page was, but he knew that every Sunday he put his guitar in his case as soon as he woke up so that it would be ready, and he never really tasted much of his lunch because he always wanted to get to the train station as quickly as possible. When they saw each other it wasn’t like with teachers at school, Mr Page didn’t talk down to Robert and he didn’t shout at him or strap him when he did something wrong, he only got a bit miffed when Robert wasn’t understanding the music. But that just showed he was passionate, he had so much love for the music that he couldn’t stand to hear when it wasn’t played right. When Robert arrived for his lesson, Mr Page always offered him tea and biscuits and they sat down together on his big flowered couch with the pillows that slouched when you sat on them, they ate and drank together and then Mr Page would gracefully stand up and retrieve his acoustic guitar from where it lay waiting against the living room wall. Robert didn’t get taught scales and exercises in his lessons, he got taught real music, Mr Page would slide a record from out his shelf and put it on his turntable for Robert to hear, then he would ask him what he liked about it and he would teach him how to play his favourite songs. Robert soon started riding on the train with a bag full of records to show Mr Page, because he wanted to hear the kind of music Robert liked too.   
When Robert came home from school his guitar was always waiting and he played before he ever did his homework, even when his parents told him he had to do his work first, he wouldn’t listen, and when he was restless and trying to sleep at night, thoughts of his teachers warm smile and the feel of his hand on his shoulder when he was showing Robert where to put his fingers drifted into his mind. Mr Page had long black hair and long black eyelashes that fluttered when he was watching Robert’s fingerwork. If Robert’s parents knew that his guitar teacher had long hair they would flip, they already hated that Robert was growing his out, golden ringlets bouncing about his face giving him the appearance of a very tall cherub. They would probably think that Mr Page was a bad influence. When Mr Page was playing he closed his eyes and pouted his lips, his lips were plump and pink like grapefruit slices.  
The next Sunday they had a lesson, Robert brought some Robert Johnson records with him because he knew that Mr Page was a master of the blues. When they had a break from the learning, Mr Page asked about Robert’s friends at school, he must’ve wanted to know about Robert’s life and what he did when he was away from him. Mr Page asked Robert why his nickname with his friends was “Percy” and Robert grinned crookedly and said it was a secret, Mr Page chuckled knowingly regardless, looking in Robert’s eyes like he could get a window into his brain through there. Of course there was no hiding from him, he would always get the joke. That day they did Travelling Riverside Blues because that was one of Robert’s favourites.   
It was after that lesson that Robert was finding it harder harder to get over his thoughts, in his bedroom that night he found his hand around his cock under the sweltering sheets, remembering the way that Mr Page had guided his other hand when showing him how to use the slide. Mr Page always demonstrated things to him like that, it must’ve just been a part of his teaching method, his teachers touch and guidance making it easier for the student to understand. There had been times when Mr Page had laid his hand on his and he could feel the callouses on his fingers. His hands were pale and long-fingered and his touch was soft and delicate like downy feathers or a piece of tissue paper.   
It soon became normal for Robert and Mr Page to talk about things other than music, Robert would tell his teacher about getting into trouble with his friends and about what subjects at school he hated most, he even told him about what his parents thought about his long hair. Mr Page would laugh or nod in sympathy and tell one of his own stories, but he always told Robert how important it was for him to focus on his studies (he was technically a teacher after all). Maybe he was worried that Robert wouldn’t be able to get a well paying job if he didn’t have good grades. Robert felt like he could tell his teacher anything, he was the only adult he knew who really seemed to respect him and understand who he was. Maybe Mr Page was Robert’s long lost big brother... but he didn’t think it was normal to think about your brother in the way that Robert did about Mr Page. Robert felt so comfortable talking to him that he had almost confessed his feelings multiple times, he would never be so foolish to do such a thing though. He would confess when he knew the time was right. Mr Page wouldn’t judge him. It was probably normal for his students start fancying him at some point during the course, it was a perfectly logical sequence of events really.   
The last lesson that Robert ever had with Mr Page was at a different time than all the others, the guitarist had some session work scheduled in the afternoon, so Robert had to come over at five instead of one. He rode the train anxiously and wondered if his teacher’s home would look any different when it got dark. He felt like maybe this change in time was a sign for him to confess. If he confessed his feelings there would be one other person that knew, because he sure as hell wasn’t going to tell his parents or friends that he liked guys. No way. Mr Page was the only person he could tell without getting laughed at. Mr Page wouldn’t laugh at him, even if he really did think it was funny. He would just get Robert a cup of tea and ask him not to get too distracted by the guys when they watched bands play on the tv. He hoped so anyway. Well, there was only one way to find out.   
The cold wind battered his cheeks and shoved its spindly fingers beneath the collar of his shearling coat as he walked, underneath he was wearing only a tight-fitting T-shirt and he began to shiver despite his thick furs. By the time he reached Mr Page’s door, he was gripping the handle of his guitar case with a scarlet hand, his long hair the only thing protecting his ears from going the same way. When his teacher let him inside, he was grateful to see a fire flickering in the hearth beside the couch, the curtains half closed to allow him to see the wavering orange dancers on the walls. Mr Page sat down and took up a cup of coffee that had been sitting on the table, he must’ve wanted to make sure he was awake for the lesson.   
They mainly worked on Travelling Riverside Blues that day, after Mr Page had finished sharing his experience in the studio from earlier (while Robert listened with great interest). When Robert was confident enough with the guitar parts, he decided to surprise Mr Page with his singing, too. He watched his eyes grow wide at the sound, looking like the caveman who first discovered fire. Robert grinned shyly when Mr Page told him that he was amazing, and he noticed how the guitarist’s hands shook slightly when he picked up another record for them to listen to. He definitely wanted sing like that again if it made Mr Page this excited. Maybe he would let him join one of his bands.   
“Would you like something to eat?” said Mr Page while the record was playing, his legs were crossed and he leaned back against the couch looking at Robert for a response. Robert said yes because it had been a while since he’d eaten and it was now the time when he would usually have dinner. While Mr Page was in the kitchen, Robert stretched out along the squashy couch on his front, his cheek resting against the warm spot where his teacher had been sitting before. Soon, he would have to confess.   
The two of them dined on cheese and crackers in the living room, it didn’t seem to occur to Mr Page to sit at a proper dinner table. Robert ate sheepishly and scuffed his foot on the floor, he was going to have to say something soon. Beside him, his teacher took delicate bites from a cracker, his thick hair tucked behind his ear to avoid crumbs. Robert’s heart pounded in his chest and his palms dug into the botanical cushions. He wasn’t eating anymore.  
Mr Page noticed the tears rolling down Robert’s face when he was lifting the needle off the record, his eyebrows craned up in an expression that turned his eyes round like little full stops. Robert didn’t look up, but he felt the man sit clumsily down next to him and lean close.   
“Robert, what’s wrong?” Mr Page’s fearful face swam next to Robert’s and Robert sniffled stupidly.  
“There’s something I got to tell you,” he wiped his face with ineptitude,  
“I-I’m, I, I think, I’m into guys.”   
Mr Page’s expression softened and his lips joined in a look of pity.  
“Oh, Robert...”   
The words came out softly, pillows of air, fluffy nothings that muffled Robert’s beating heart. Mr Page’s hand rested on Robert’s back, brushing gentle circles.  
“It’s going to be okay.” Robert hid his face from view with his hand,  
“But what if my parents find out?”  
“Do you think they would kick you out?”   
“Maybe.”   
Mr Page had his hand on Robert’s shoulder, his thumb gently rubbing back and forth.  
“I’m sure there would be someone who could take care of you.”   
Robert breathed heavily, he didn’t ever realise he would get upset like this. He was never upset that he had started to fancy a man, he didn’t think there was anything wrong, but-  
“I just don’t wanna be alone.” the two finally made eye contact and Robert stared at his teacher with bloodshot blue eyes.  
“C’mere”   
He sunk into Mr Page’s arms, his body was slim and firm, but he was warm with a candlelight heat that pillowed about Robert’s skin like bubblebath. A gentle hand stroked Robert’s back.   
“It’s okay if you like guys, Percy. I do too.” Robert’s breath shortened.  
“You do?” his heart was beating fast again, roaring like a race car ready to start.  
“I do.”   
Robert pushed himself up with a tingling hand and kissed Mr Page on the mouth. 

When they parted, Robert was red up to his ears and felt about ready to throw up,  
“I’m sorry.” he said.  
“No, no, no, it’s okay,” Mr Page had a hand on Robert’s cheek, pulling Robert’s gaze to his and looking at him with melting waxy eyes. In deep seriousness he told him,  
“It’s okay.”   
When Mr Page took his hand from his cheek, Robert was left sitting hunched over looking at a patch of fabric beside him. Mr Page asked Robert if he would like a tea or hot chocolate and Robert said yes please and that he’d like hot chocolate. Robert tentatively relaxed and lay back into the couch, he closed his eyes and concentrated on the feeling imprinted on his shoulder where Mr Page had held him when they kissed. He touched the fabric of his T-shirt there, his teacher didn’t seem to be surprised at being so suddenly kissed, when they had kissed Robert had felt his lips moving in response. And his hand holding Robert warmly by the shoulder. He let out a shaky breath and looked down at the bulge in his trousers.   
While Robert took nervous sips from his mug of hot chocolate, Mr Page drew closed the curtains; the winter sky was already black outside. When Mr Page came back to sit down on the couch again, Robert found himself instinctually falling back into his arms, which lay open.   
“You’re so nice to me.”  
Mr Page gently stroked long fingers through Robert’s curls,  
“I care about you.”  
Robert pressed himself against his teacher’s chest and tried not to shiver too much, his hand lay against the man’s patterned sweater vest, warm and soft.  
“If I got kicked out could I live with you?”   
When the words left his mouth, Robert felt himself begin to curl up in shame, his heart rattling in thick silence.  
He felt Mr Page push his nose into his thick hair and touch his cupid lips to his crown.  
“Yes.” he murmured.  
Robert’s eyes grew wet with emotion, he felt his teacher’s larger hand delicately petting his golden curls, cupping his fluffy head. Mr Page didn’t seem to need any response, he carried on slowly, letting Robert’s nervous breaths fall into the glimmering air. Robert’s hand on the teacher’s chest rubbed timidly up and down, fingers curling and uncurling with nerves; his heart no longer rattled, but beat against the sternum like it was a big bass drum. He glanced up for a second, catching a glimpse of plump lips hovering just out of reach and a soft pale chin rounded with firelight. Mr Page’s eyes then fell half shut, looking down at him. Robert’s hand now moved across his stomach, feeling the rough wool beneath his palm.   
Slowly, Mr Page leaned down and tipped Robert’s face to his. Their second kiss lasted longer than the first, their lips sliding together in smooth laziness, Robert helpless to the small sounds that slipped from his throat when he felt his teacher’s soft tongue slide against his, unable to react when he felt a hand on his, guiding it gently downward.   
Robert gazed wide-eyed at Mr Page, his fingers and palm gingerly grazing the trouser fabric of the teacher’s crotch. Mr Page looked back, stroking his pupil’s hair lovingly,  
“It’s okay Percy,” he held Robert’s hand in place, letting him feel what was underneath the trousers as well, his thumb rubbing with warm strength over Robert’s skin.  
“I’m not going to hurt you.”  
Robert looked down, mesmerised by the feeling of the hand moving through his hair, and he realised how hard he was too. It would be just like doing it to himself, he spread his hand out flat against Mr Page, feeling the hardness beneath his palm and the small twitching that happened every so often. He felt the other hand lift from on top of his and he began to rub jerkily back and forth, wrapping his fingers over the imprint he found.  
“Well done.” said Mr Page, pulling Robert close to kiss him wetly on the forehead.  
Mr Page’s legs which were once crossed, now fell open so that Robert could touch him fully, and his hand which had grown more adventurous, rubbed and pressed along the whole of the teacher’s length.   
“Have you ever done this before?” Mr Page mumbled breathily to the top of Robert’s head.  
“With, with girls I’ve done kissing and I’ve had um, I got wanked off by one of them.” he grinned to himself at that, despite the situation. He could hear Mr Page let out a breathy chuckle as well.  
“I’ve never done it with a guy before.”   
“You can undo my trousers if you like.”  
Robert looked at Mr Page, and then at Mr Page’s crotch. Mr Page squeezed his shoulder supportively; he felt his fingers inch up to the button. When he had undone the trousers completely, Robert retracted his hand uncertainly and let Mr Page pull them and his underpants down.   
Mr Page delicately placed his hand on Robert’s and guided him slowly and soothingly,  
“That’s it,” Robert curled his fingers.  
“Good,” Robert moved his hand up and down.  
“You’re doing very well for your first time, Robert.”  
Mr Page had both his arms around Robert now, embracing him warmly, feeling his hair, Robert felt his hands carrying him, holding him like they were lying in bed together. Mr Page pushed their lips together, grabbing at Robert’s hair as he kissed him. Robert’s hand didn’t stop. Mr Page thrust his tongue into Robert’s mouth, he let their teeth click, his other hand clamped on Robert’s shoulder. They pulled apart and Robert’s mouth dripped drool onto his chin and he was shaking, desperately trying to keep his hand steady to no avail. He buried his head in his teacher’s neck, shielding himself in soft black fluff.   
“Oh dear, what’s wrong?”   
Robert gasped painfully into Mr Page’s neck.  
“No, no, no, it’s okay, now, it’s okay,”   
Robert moved his hand faster.  
“You’ve got nothing to be, you’ve got nothing... you’ve got nothing to be scared of... you’ve got nothing... nothing... nothing to be...” 

Robert shut his eyes and hugged Mr Page as tight as he could and Mr Page squeezed back with both arms, rocking him slowly. 

“It’s alright, now,”  
“It’s alright,”  
“I’m sorry Robert,”  
“I’m so sorry,”  
“You know that I am, I really am,”   
“Oh, Robert...”


End file.
